


Run, Don't Trail Behind

by CandleCradle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Crime, Angst and Feels, Criminal!AkaKen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mystery, Police!BoKuro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9839597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandleCradle/pseuds/CandleCradle
Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou, a Tokyo Inspector, struggles to solve the mystery of an unfortunate death. With his partner, Bokuto Koutaro, they instead get wrapped up with a couple of Japan's most wanted outlaws.Kozume Kenma, a criminal computer genius, is being pursued by an unknown enemy and can only look forward as his world crumbles behind him. His teammate Akaashi Keiji, a trained thief, is desperate to save as many innocent lives as possible- even if it means sacrificing what few values he has left.And somehow they all tackle the biggest crime syndicates in Tokyo.(This work has been discontinued for the time being. Thank you for your understanding!)





	1. It all begins with Inuoka Sou

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this. I'm trying out my hand in mystery and have been writing non-stop for days.  
> Please bear with me and my grammar mistakes, I have yet to find a beta (✿´‿`)

  

 _Run, run, don't trail behind. Keep moving-_  
_The beasts won't stop 'til we're dead._  
_All the scrapes on our_ _knees_  
_Will tell you where we've been,_ _where we have bled._

 _-_ Woodland, The Paper Kites

* * *

  

 

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you too.” Yuuki is wrapped in warm arms, and takes a moment to soak in all the nice feelings he gets from the embrace. He doesn’t want to ever let go, doesn’t want to ever be let go. Sou kisses the top of his head and steps away, a fond smile on his face. Yuuki wishes they were still in each other’s arms, that he’d have those hugs with him always._

_“You won’t be lonely without me, right?” Sou sighs and scratches the back of his head._

_“I’ll miss you tons, and so will the cats, but I think I can survive a week by myself. And don’t worry! I’ll have the guys from work and I already have lunch planned with one of my old friends from out of town.” Yuuki raises a brow, jealousy suddenly getting the better of him._

_“Oh really? Who? You won’t replace me right?” He teases, watching his boyfriend’s eyes go wide and sad._

_“I would never! You’re the only one for me! My one true love!” Sou abruptly picks Yuuki up and twirls him in a desperate and playful hug, laughing when Yuuki squirms around in protest. He places him down gently and sneaks in a quick peck on the cheek. Silence drops over them for a short moment while they both bask in the happy glow._

_“You better call me every day.” Yuuki warns, sighing and picking up one of his bags to sling it over his shoulder. His train is going to leave soon, and the longer he drags out this goodbye the less he’ll want to leave. He grabs the handle of his suitcase and tilts it. Sou simply laughs that airy laugh and nods._

_“I promise I will. Have fun on your trip and come back soon okay? I think I already miss you.” Yuuki rolls his eyes and takes a step forward, leaning in on his tiptoes and kissing Sou softly on the lips._

_“I’ll miss you too, babe. I’ll call you when I get there.”_

_“Be safe!” Sou calls out as Yuuki turns and walks down the hall._

_“Will do! I love you!”_

_“I love you too.”_

_The warmth of those words make Yuuki’s heart beat faster._

 

~~~~~

 

Kuroo Tetsurou wakes up to the sound of his alarm at 5 sharp. He hops out of bed, brushes his teeth, sighs woefully at his hair, and wrestles himself into his uniform. It takes some careful maneuvering to get to the front door- he promises himself that on his next day off he’ll clean the apartment because the trash is really starting to smell and Bo hasn’t helped him do the dishes all this past week. They really need to get a better routine underway for the housework.

After plunging his feet into his shoes, Kuroo locks the apartment door behind him and heads outside. The morning is still dark and a little muggy, but that might just be the Tokyo smog. He takes a deep breath despite the thought and looks out onto the street at the lights gradually flickering on in the windowed buildings above him. He takes a moment to soak in the sounds, the cooing of pigeons overhead, the purring of car engines in the distance. Kuroo likes mornings like this. When the murmur of Tokyo begins to roar into life, when the city rises up with the sun and he can begin another day of work.

Kuroo puts his hand in his pocket and feels the leather case of his badge. His _new_ badge. His _Inspector_ badge given to him not a week beforehand. He sucks in a satisfied breath. His work getting recognized is encouraging. Now he has seniority, now he can take on more responsibility. Kuroo’s also just a little excited at the prospect of heading to his new office and not a main floor cubicle. That’s a real bonus.

He plans to get real coffee before heading into work. Bokuto’s been given night rounds recently and coffee has become somewhat a necessity if he wants his partner to actually stay awake until his shift ends. And in all honesty, the stuff at the station tastes like piss water.

So Kuroo undergoes the trek down the next few streets to the 24-hour café, not hurried because he still has a half hour before work and he’s in a good mood. He’s in and out with two coffees and a couple of breakfast muffins in about fifteen minutes.

The event that really kick starts his morning though, sounds from roughly a block away. It was the tin thunder of a trash can being kicked over, obnoxious and snide laughter echoing from between building walls. Across the street in the good old-fashioned alley, Kuroo can barely make out the dark figures moving in on someone pinned to a wall. It doesn’t seem like a friendly exchange at all, and in fact, Kuroo knows he’s going to have to intervene when he sees a knife being pulled out by one of the thugs.

He has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the gang activity occurring not five minutes from the police station, but nevertheless he places down the coffee and bag of muffins on the sidewalk and approaches the figures, hand over the holster on his hip.

“Please let me go.” The man pinned to the wall drones. He looks unimpressed by his attackers, but Kuroo can see he’s clenching tightly onto the strap of the duffel bag slung around his shoulder.

“No, no, I don’t think so.” One of the thugs has his forearm caging in the man, and with a tilt of his head, Kuroo can see the gang tattoo tracing its way down his neck. “I think you owe us something.” He coos, leaning in closer, making the other man tilt his face away.

 “I don’t think that-” His green eyes snap to the mouth of the alleyway, right where Kuroo’s standing. He stiffens upon seeing the Inspector, but his eyes are pleading as the thug leans in even closer, sleazy smile and all. Kuroo’s pretty sure the green-eyed man might suffocate from the fumes of the product that’s been abused into the thug’s bleached hair. It’s probably time to intervene.

“Don’t you guys think it’s a little too early to be wreaking havoc?” Kuroo calls, commanding attention. There’s five gang members here, and they all turn their gazes to him. The one who leans against the wall straightens, annoyed. His eyes zero in on the weapon Kuroo is ready to pull if need be.

The green-eyed man slips away towards Kuroo.

“We weren’t finished with that guy, officer.” The bleached-hair thug whines, sticking his hands down his front pockets.

“Well you are now.” Kuroo sharpens his look at the yellow bandana wrapped around the thug’s wrist. _Johzenji gang._ “Beat it before I get my squad down here to arrest you all for harassment.”

The group exchanges looks of irritation, but still shy away at the mention of more law enforcement appearing. The bleached-hair positively glowers at the green-eyed man, who smugly waves ‘bye-bye’ from his safe position behind Kuroo. His other hand is still tightly clenched around the strap of his duffle.

The gang eventually clears from their line of sight, and Kuroo exhales heavily. Really, he’d prefer to have someone like Bokuto with him for situations like gang negotiations. Bokuto’s got the brawny intimidation factor, whereas while Kuroo himself is fit, he’s not as defined as his partner.

“Are you okay?” He turns to the green-eyed man, and is suddenly caught by the remarkable paleness of the man’s face. Kuroo was almost sure he was looking at a ghost. The man takes a tentative step back, chuckling nervously now that the imminent threat is gone.

“I am fine officer, thank you for stepping in.” The man pushes back the dark curled hair on his forehead and hefts the duffel further up his shoulder. Kuroo watches the movement with thinly veiled fascination as the curl just falls right back down onto the man’s forehead.

Maybe it’s the gentle beauty of the man’s face or maybe it’s the way he’s uneasily looking back into the alley, but Kuroo pulls out one of his business cards. The ones that say Inspector on them. He pretends he isn’t happy about sharing one.

“Well then,” He hands the card over. “If you get into trouble again, or need help with anything, just contact the number on here.”

The man’s brow raises in question, but he takes the card anyway.

“Thank you Inspector,” He reads the card for the name, “Kuroo.”

No, Kuroo does not _preen_.

“Well it is my job after all,” He fishes and the man bows his head slightly.

“Akaashi.” He finishes for Kuroo, voice little more than a whisper. Kuroo grins and stoops to pick up the coffee and muffins from where he’d sat them down.

“Akaashi-san then. It was my pleasure.” Akaashi nods mechanically.

“I appreciate the assistance,” A step back, two. “I will be sure to inform you if I see those gang members again.” Kuroo smiles reassuringly and lifts his coffee in goodbye.

“Have a nice day then!” He calls after the retreating man. Akaashi says farewell with a despondent wave of his hand and disappears around the next corner.

 

When he makes it to the station, he’s ten minutes late. The officer manning the front desk that morning, _Dammit its Komi_ , hoots out obnoxiously.

“Someone’s abusing his newfound power.” The brown-haired officer is leaning over the back of his chair in boredom, watching amused as Kuroo ducks his head with annoyance.

“Fuck off, Komi.” He bites back, grumbling as he makes his way to the stairs.

When he reaches the second floor is when he hears the normal office noises he’s grown to love. There’s the main floor where all the desks and cubicles are aligned according to teams, and then along each wall are the offices for the high-ranking employees, Kuroo now included. There are secretaries and interns running around with files and drinks, and then there are officers working on cases and screeching into their phones. All in all, it’s incredibly hectic and Kuroo’s glad he has a place to retreat to.

He’s even more eternally grateful when as he’s crossing the main floor, he hears a snicker behind his back.

“Week two and you’re already coming in late.” Konoha is walking behind him with an armful of files and his knowing smirk.

“At least I have real coffee to sustain me for the rest of the day.” Kuroo throws the quip over his shoulder as he weaves between the cubicles and his coworkers, heading to the small office door embellished with his name on a tiny silver plate. He retrieves his keys from his pocket, holding both coffee cups with one arm. Unlocking the door, he also picks up the paperwork in the folder hung underneath his nameplate.

His office was a blessing. Kuroo had only recently been gifted it by their gracious Superintendent Nekomata, but it was already like a second home to him. It was small but hey, he’d take any amount of privacy and quiet he could get, especially if it was away from his snarky coworkers.

On his desk he unloads himself of the files and coffee. Kuroo sits in his chair and does a few languid spins before stilling himself and turning on his computer. He checks his email (five messages), the reports he still has left to file, and then decides to harass the main office to speed up the process of getting him a particular warrant. He gulps down the cooled coffee and eats one of the breakfast muffins while working. He's waiting patiently for his partner who, by this time, should've shown up in search of him. It doesn’t take long however, for the familiar _thump thump thump_ of heavy footfalls to sound outside in the hallway. 

“You’re late.” Bokuto yawns as he slumps round the corner into Kuroo’s office. He sinks down into one of the chairs situated in front of the desk, grabbing for the cup of coffee left abandoned by the computer monitor.

“This one’s yours, doofus.” Kuroo rolls his eyes, electing to ignore yet another comment about his tardiness. He hands his partner the full cup when he sees Bokuto’s mouth turn into a deep frown at the emptied one of Kuroo's he’s currently sticking his nose into.

“Okay good, because I’m running on fumes.” Kuroo nods knowingly and returns his attention back to the email he’s writing so he doesn’t have to look at the poor drooping officer in front of him. He still can't help himself from asking the lucky question though.

“Nekomata done giving you night rounds yet? Because you honestly look light shit now.”

“Well gee, thanks.” Bokuto mumbles, cradling the coffee to his chest like its his only worldly possession. “And yeah, I think this is the last of it. Although I'm in utter hell until I sleep tonight.”

Kuroo feels for his partner, he really does. They've known each other for the better part of seven years now. Having gone to the police academy and been stationed at the same Koban, it was inevitable they would become friends. They'd been living together since officially becoming partners three years ago. But now his poor partner faces the dreaded night rounds.

His brow raises as he gives Bo a once-over. His partner's spiked hair is disheveled and his eyes have bags beneath them. His uniform is crumpled and the shirt’s partly untucked. Not to mention the shadow of stubble forming on Bo’s usually clean-shaven face. For an early bird, the night shifts sure are taking their toll on the poor officer. It probably also explains why their apartment hasn't been thoroughly cleaned in a couple of weeks. 

“At least they’ll be over soon. It feels like forever ago since you had that meltdown with the Superintendent.” Now _that_ was a bad day at the station. One of the dogs Bokuto had been training was wounded in a shoot-out with one of the crime syndicates in Tokyo. They’d lost two officers that day, and the dog, Taiki, was taken to critical care. With all the stress, Bokuto had exchanged a few colorful words with everyone when they tried telling him everything would be fine. Eventually the Superintendent doled out the punishment when he walked in on Bokuto exploding on Sarukui.  

His gray-haired partner nods and sighs into his coffee, eyes drooping.

“So do we have anything interesting for today?” He mumbles, barely awake where he’s practically melted into the chair. Kuroo raises a curious brow and looks at the clock. He quietly rolls up a few reports at swats at his partner playfully.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, you still have three hours left on your shift!”

“But there’s nothing to do!”

“Yeah there is, you guys have a new case. Just came in.” A third voice pipes up as shaggy blonde hair leans into the doorway. Both officers startle and turn their attention to Konoha who wears a grim frown. 

“Shinjuku, librarian found shot in his home this morning.” Both men in the office jump into action at the report, Kuroo grabbing for his coat and Bokuto surprisingly already out the door to retrieve his things from his desk. A murder means a murder scene, which also meant they had little time to waste to get there.

“Any witnesses?” Kuroo asks, double checking he has his phone and keys. Konoha shrugs.

“His roommate found him after returning from a family trip. The Koban down there asked we send an inspector for questioning because they’ve received some troubling information.” Kuroo scowls and steps out into the hall, he’ll find out when he gets there then. Konoha calls out after him and promises to send them the address.

 

~~~~~

 

_Yuuki’s phone rings at seven o’clock every night._

_“Hey there Sou, how was your day?”_

_“It was okay.” His voice is tired, which makes little sense because it was his day off from work. Had he been running errands or something? “I miss you though, so come home soon.”_

_Yuuki rolls his eyes and smiles into the receiver._

_“I miss you too, you big goofball. What have you been up to since I’ve been gone?”_

_“Well, I had lunch with my friend today, it was good to see him after so long.”_

_“Which friend was it again? I don’t think I remember you telling me his name.” Yuuki moves off of the couch and his mother waves him goodbye while he trudges to his room, away from the noise of the television._

_“Um…” Sou’s voice wavers and Yuuki raises his brow. Did Sou not remember his friend’s name? Or did he just not want to tell Yuuki about him?_

_“His name is Kozume. We kind of grew up together.” Yuuki’s glad Sou can’t see his face right now, because he’s pretty sure he’s frowning. Childhood friends? He’s never heard the name before._

_“That’s weird, you never talk about him.” He tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but the bite is still sharper than he intends. He feels cold with the prospect of Sou keeping something from him, of lying to him. Yuuki picks nervously at the hem of his shirt when he gets into his room. Without turning on a light, he sits down on his bed._

_“There’s not much to talk about with him. Kozume’s a very private person. This is the first time I’ve actually seen him in over a year.” A breathless chuckle, one that just slightly, puts his nerves at ease. That makes sense at least. He doesn’t know why he’s being overprotective all of a sudden, it must be the distance. He trusts Sou, they don’t keep secrets with one another. Maybe the meeting with his friend just didn’t go as well as Sou had hoped. That’s most likely why he sounded so tired._

_“So how was your day?” His boyfriend pipes up, more sprightly and changing the topic._

_“Did your mother make that delicious chicken and rice again? You better bring me some! It’s my favorite!” Yuuki giggles and is nodding until he realizes that they’re on the phone._

_“Yes I promise to bring you some, but that means you have to make me omurice the morning I get back.” Sou scoffs and chuckles._

_“Well of course I will. Anything to get my sweet prince to come home sooner and bring me food!”_

 

_They speak for a long time, like they haven’t seen each other in months. Yuuki’s drifting off to sleep to the soft chattering voice in his ear. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he knows he’s barely conscious when he hears a quiet murmur._

_“I love you, Yuuki.” He smiles and mumbles back._

_“I love you too, Sou.”_

_Yuuki falls asleep feeling warm again._

 

~~~~~

 

They were in Shinjuku before eight, and Kuroo sighs at the perimeter already set up. They were in a more residential area, but it was still tightly packed as curious on-lookers crowded near the tape border. A few Koban officers were out discussing amongst themselves and the two partners duck under the tape to make way to the building, badges on display.

“Which floor?” Kuroo asks the officer manning the front door.

“Third, prep station is inside the lobby.” They all nod to one another and trudge inside where forensics have set up a table for officers to grab shoe covers, bunny suits, and gloves. Kuroo and Bokuto exchange a glance and don only the shoe covers, pulling out the gloves from the box and putting them on as they climb the stairs. Bunny suits are really a necessity unless there are chemicals about.

They enter the open apartment and immediately the smell of death is heavy in the air. The apartment itself is a warmly decorated place, shelves stuffed with eclectic items, pictures hung on every wall of family and friends. Completely contradictory to the situation. Bokuto branches into the bedroom where the smell is the strongest and Kuroo heads into the main room, where two people are sat at a dining table in the corner.

“Inspector Kuroo, we’ve been waiting for you.” The Koban officer at the table stands and bows, walking away from the small dark-haired man still seated to shake Kuroo’s hand. “I’m Chaya Asamushi, the first on the scene. I’m glad someone from the station could make it down here.”

“So am I,” Kuroo tries a comforting smile, but the seriousness of the situation takes him in again. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “What are we looking at here?”

“Inuoka Sou, worked at Toyama Library, shot twice in the chest and was discovered this morning by his roommate. We’ve found traces of forced entry on the front door, and not much else.” Chaya’s voice lowered as he led Kuroo a few steps farther away from who Kuroo presumed to be the roommate sitting at the table. Chaya’s eyes were filled with a sort of grim concern as he placed his hands on his hips.

“We think the guy was interrogated. He was bound with his arms behind his back and there are traces of blunt-force trauma on his head. But that’s not why we called you out here.” Chaya’s attention diverts to another officer who comes into the room, passing off a small manila folder. They exchange a few words and are then left alone again.

“Apparently, Inuoka had family in Kyoto. They were found in their home after the station down there received an anonymous tip.” Kuroo receives with folder with intrigue, stomach churning uncomfortably as he looks over the crime scene photos. Chaya sighs again. “Both parents and a younger brother. Shot execution-style. Coroner says they’ve been dead at least 48 hours.”

Kuroo takes in the scene of the photos carefully, eyes roaming over blood spatters and the bodies. Its always unsettling when a case involves multiple murders, not to mention those of an entire family. He closes the folder and looks around the apartment again. The bright paint, the candles on the kitchen counter, the plants on the windowsill, it all seemed so cheerful compared to the gruesome murder just a wall away, the murders hours away in Kyoto.

His eyes land next on the man still sitting at the dining room table. He hasn’t moved at all since the officer left him. Head down turned, shaggy black hair falling in front of his face, his shoulders slump in defeat.

“Him?” Kuroo nods in the man’s direction and Chaya pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Shibayama Yuuki-san, the roommate. Just returned this morning from visiting his own family in Ibaraki. He found the body and phoned us. I’ve been questioning him but…” Chaya shifts on his feet and Kuroo closes the file in his hand.

“He hasn’t been very helpful, to say the least.” Chaya takes a deep breath and checks the time on his phone. “Here’s hoping you can do better, I have to get back to the Koban station. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you, Inspector.” With that, the officer bows and leaves the apartment.

Kuroo would’ve complained about having cases dumped on him that weren’t even from his ward, but in all honesty, this one seemed right up his alley. This was his first big case as an Inspector, this was a chance he could prove himself worthy of the title. 

When he sits down at the table across from Shibayama, Kuroo is quick to notice the state the young man is in. His eyes are swollen and red, as is his nose from rubbing it too often. _Distraught_ is the first word that comes to mind. He’s pale, like a person usually is when they stumble upon a dead person, and there is a nearly imperceptible shiver that courses through him as Kuroo sits down. _Huh._

“Hello, my name is Inspector Kuroo Tetsurou. You’re Shibayama Yuuki-san, correct?” He asks this as formality, and the questioned man nods in affirmation. Kuroo is careful to keep his voice level and kind, a tactic to see if he could get the young man to open up more to him than Chaya who, regrettably didn’t seem as well-versed in questioning methods.

“Would you mind telling me a bit about yourself, Shibayama-san?” Kuroo asks, trying to catch the young man’s attention. Shibayama looks up briefly, brown eyes filled with fresh tears, and a darkness that Kuroo is hesitant to call anger, then averts his gaze again to instead focus on his hands folded in his lap.

“I-I’m 22,” He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I attend Tokyo Medical University. I’m from Tokyo actually, but my parents moved out to Ibaraki when they retired. That’s where I was for the past week before I came home and found Sou-” Shibayama’s voice wavers and he sobs, curling as far into himself as possible. Kuroo belatedly looks around for tissues and retrieves a box from the kitchen counter.

“Shibayama-san, could you please tell me about your roommate? Did he do anything suspicious? Do you know anyone who would want to hurt him?”

“No,” The young man asserts. “The other officer was so sure he was into something bad to get him killed like this.” Shibayama takes a shuddering breath, his face red and tear-streaked. He looks resolved and defiant as he stares Kuroo down. It's something he doesn't really recall ever doing with an innocent witness before, and a creeping suspicion tingles at the back of his neck. Kuroo leans in his chair and holds the gaze firmly. 

“No, Inuoka Sou was a good man. Everyone loved him. He didn’t have any enemies and if he ever was in any arguments, he’d solve the issue straight away instead of dragging it out. He loved his family, he loved his friends, and he loved his two cats who both are gone now because the door was left open.” Shibayama sobs and reaches for another tissue.

Kuroo soaks in the words. He soaks in the defensive attitude, the tears, and the bitterness. He then remembers the photographs hanging on the walls, looks at the one on the coffee table in the living room. It's of the two roommates, of Inuoka wrapped around Shibayama And then it finally clicks.

“You were lovers.” He states, knowing he hit the bulls-eye when Shibayama tenses and sucks in a deep breath. He wilts after a moment though, defeated.

“Yeah, we _were_. But now someone took him from me and I’ll never get him back.” Shibayama’s lip quivers but he keeps himself together. There's a dark look in his eye, one that Kuroo quite frankly is sure he doesn't like. Shibayama looks torn about something, like he wants to talk to Kuroo but fears what he might say. 

“What is it?” He probes a bit too sternly. Withholding information is only going to make the case harder to solve, and Kuroo doesn’t intend to let anything slip him by that might be useful.

Shibayama sighs and brings his hands atop the table, fingers clasped firmly together.

“H-He called me last night.” The young man bows his head and Kuroo pushes the tissue box forward. Grimly, the thought passes that maybe Shibayama was the last person to hear his lover alive. 

“What did he say?”

“He was telling me to stay the weekend with my parents. But, every time he called me before he was always asking me to come back sooner, telling me that he missed me.” Shibayama looks up and pulls a tissue to his nose. “I think he was trying to keep me away, like he knew something bad would happen.”

Kuroo nodded solemnly, looking up and noticing Bokuto walk out into the living room in search of him. He holds up a finger indicating he’d be there soon.

“Inspector, he sounded so _scared_. He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.” They met one another’s gaze and Kuroo could see the utter devastation and heartbreak behind Shibayama’s eyes. “He was telling me goodbye and was crying but he wouldn’t answer the phone after he ended the call. I took the first train they had this morning back here.” He clenched his hands into fists. “But I was too late.”

The tears were unstoppable then, and Kuroo gave the young man a few sympathetic pats on the back as he rose from his chair. Before heading into the bedroom, he stops another officer and requests that Shibayama be placed under protection if the young man should ask for it. The officer nods and Kuroo proceeds into the bedroom, mind trying to soak in every bit of information from his conversation with Shibayama. 

The smell of death is nearly overwhelming as he steps in. Bokuto is probing around a nightstand and the coroner with her assistant are leaning over the body . The photographer is on standby, already having pictured everything in the room and waiting for instruction. Kuroo's eyes are drawn to the motionless body leaning back against the side of the bed. 

Like Officer Chaya had mentioned, Inuoka’s arms were bound behind his back and his chest had two bullet holes in it. The blood soaked through the front of his shirt and as Kuroo steps closer, he can see the dark puddle on the floor.

Bokuto walks over and stands beside him.

“They think he was tortured.” He says blandly, eyes still drooping from lack of sleep. The coroner looks up sharply, her brows furrowed.

“Not extensively though.” She corrects when she catches wind of Kuroo’s questioning look.

“This bullet wound here,” She motions to the lower of the two. “It doesn’t hit anything vital. And this head wound along the parietal ridge,” She raises he finger and motions to the underside of the victim’s tilted head. “It wasn’t enough to knock him out. That indicates either a struggle, which there is no other evidence for, or someone was trying to get information out of the guy.” She stands up and her assistant does the same.

“I’ll know more when I bag him get him back to the lab.” She turns to her assistant and they both leave to get the stretcher, Kuroo and Bokuto following them out and shedding their gloves.

“So what do you think?” Kuroo asks as they plod down the stairs.

“Hell, I can barely think for myself right now much less about this case.” Bokuto grumbles, nearly tripping down the last few steps into the lobby. “It sounds like this Inuoka guy found out something he shouldn’t have though.”

“We might be dealing with a gang here.”

“But there weren’t any signs left. Wouldn’t there be a signature at least?”

“Not necessarily if it’s one of the more organized ones.” Kuroo pulls off the boot covers once they reach the bottom floor and tosses them in the garbage. Bokuto does the same and looks around at the people while Kuroo calls into the office letting them know they’ll be back soon. When Kuroo finally hangs up the phone, he finds Bokuto grinning triumphantly.

“What’s that look for?” Bokuto just points up and Kuroo finds himself a moment later wearing the same grin. In the far corner pointed at the front door, is a security camera.

Maybe, just maybe, they can get footage of the killer.

 

~~~~~

_It’s nearly twenty minutes past ten when Yuuki’s phone rings. He answers it automatically, having waited anxiously the past three hours. Maybe Sou had to stay late at the library again._

_“Hey honey, you’re calling late. Is everything okay?”_

_There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and Yuuki can hear a shuddering breath._

_“Sou, are you alright?” He asks, concerned. Yuuki stares out into the front yard at the grass dancing in the wind. He’s on the front porch, sitting on the steps and enjoying the night air. Except now, in the lengthening silence, he feels worry twist in his gut._

_“Hey babe, you should just stay the weekend with your parents.” Sou’s voice comes out strained and thick, and Yuuki furrows his brow, but he tries to lighten his boyfriend’s mood instead of causing a fuss._

_“Why, do you not miss me anymore?” He teases. It sounds hollow to him, but maybe Sou won’t pick up on it._

_A bitter chuckle, a sound Yuuki’s never actually heard before and it send alarms going off in his head. Sou’s always laughing, in all different ways. He’s never laughed without some sort of positivity tacked onto it though. He’s about to speak again when Sou pipes up._

_“I always miss you. But I think you’ll want to spend the next few days with your family, at least until the new week starts and your classes begin again.” Sou’s speaking quickly, and without the usual glee that’s inherent in every fiber of his being._

_“Sou, honey, what’s the matter? Why are you asking me to stay here longer?” Yuuki’s voice is bleeding concern, and he’s clawing at the porch step to ground himself. A million negative thoughts are swirling through his head. Does he really want him to stay here longer? Why doesn’t Sou want to see him? Did something happen?_

_The lines goes static for a moment, Sou sighs into the phone and Yuuki swears he hears a sniffle._

_“I love you so much, Yuuki. But I think I can wait a few more days- your family really misses you, I’m sure they’d want to see you for as long as possible.” His voice is thick with tears and a little garbled. Dread courses through Yuuki and he shivers at the sound._

_“I love you too, Sou. I love you more than anything.” He says quietly, and now he’s certain his boyfriend is crying. Yuuki himself is actually tearing up a bit too, because he’s always been a crier and just hearing it makes him sympathize._

_“You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right?” Sou’s voice is clearer now, likes he’s resolved. Yuuki grins weakly at the bright lilt that’s trying to break through._

_“I’m so proud of you, of everything that you’ve done and of everything you’re going to accomplish.” His voice wavers, and Yuuki hears a sharp intake of breath. It sounds panicked._

_“Sou? What’s going on-?”_

_“And I’ve never met a stronger person than you.” It rushes out so quickly and in one breath that Yuuki almost doesn’t catch it. He clenches the phone in his hand._

_“Sou, baby, tell me what’s going on. Are you in danger? Are you okay?” His boyfriend speaks over him._

_“And I know this week has been hard because we’ve been apart, but I love you so much and I don’t regret ever choosing to spend the rest of my life with you.”_

_Yuuki is on his feet by now, the yard has long been dark and he stares into it frightfully. This sounds like a goodbye. Why is Sou saying goodbye?_

_“Don’t worry though, honey. I’m okay. I promise I’m okay.” Sou takes a breath and Yuuki wonders if it’s a lie or an affirmation or maybe both. Maybe he really is okay and just having a bad night? He sounds like he’s calming down despite the actual words that he’s saying._

_“You know I think all those things about you too, right?” Yuuki blurts, desperate to get Sou to stay on the line._

_A second of silence before Yuuki’s pulling the phone sharply away from his ear as Sou’s laugh blasts through the speaker. Yuuki smiles to himself because he loves that laugh, the one that tells him that he surprised Sou, the one that makes him feel like he’s basking in sunlight._

_“Yeah babe, I know.” Sou chokes out, giggling but finally settling down. Yuuki feels better just hearing the normal Sou. Maybe his boyfriend was just being dramatic. Maybe everything will be fine._

_“… Hey Yuuki, I want you to know something.” His name is said softly, reverently._

_“Yes, sunshine?”_

_“I want you to know that not a single day will go by without me loving you. Every morning you wake up, your first thought should be that. That you are loved. Because you are, and nothing in the world will ever change that.”_

_“Sou-” He’s confused, his stomach is in knots._

_“I love you, Shibayama Yuuki.”_

_The lines goes dead._

_Sou doesn’t answer when he tries to call back._

 

~~~~~

 

The next morning, Yuuki finds their apartment door kicked in, the cats gone, and his boyfriend’s body in the bedroom.

And for a few numb seconds, he remembers the conversation they had the night before. He remembers the last words Sou said to him.

Yuuki feels cold, like his boyfriend's unbeating heart.

He calls the police before he loses himself to the grief. And he does, right there in the bedroom, on his knees before the glassy-eyed stare of his one and only love. Yuuki wants to reach out, grab his lover's hand, stroke the side of his terribly pale face. But he's scared- scared because he knows Sou has gone cold. That's the last thing he wants to remember Sou by, the cold feeling of his skin in death, and not the warmth that were his hugs or his lips. He already know's he'll be seeing those lifeless eyes for the rest of his life, the blood that he's fallen in front of just inches away. He cries and cries until there is noise and suddenly, the police are there and holding him back.

Yuuki feels something dark stir deep within him. He doesn’t tell the police everything. 

Apprehending the criminal isn't enough for him. Yuuki doesn’t want the murderer in jail. He wants them dead.

He wants this person who stole Sou from him to suffer the same fate. He wants them tied up and shot, once, twice, however many times until Yuuki feels satisfied that the criminal knows exactly just how much pain they caused. Just how much pain they brought upon themselves.

The police aren't going to do that for him. 

Which means he’ll just have to find whoever did it first.

So when his brain starts whirring, asking questions beyond the unavoidable- _What will I do now? Why did you leave me, Sou? How did this happen?_   He instead focuses on the one he thinks he knows the answer to- _Who did this to you?_

The answer, he tells himself, is the one person who wasn’t in Sou’s life every day. The one extraneous person, the one Sou never spoke about, was hesitant to even tell Yuuki about. The one person whose name rung out over and over in his head beside Sou’s like a sour note in a melancholy symphony.

 

_Kozume._

_Kozume killed Sou._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koban- community police stations, the smallest organizational unit in today's Japanese police system.


	2. A very tired Konoha Akinori

 

_He’s hunched over in his chair, the room is dark and his eyes are burning holes into the picture on his screen. It has been nearly a week of sleepless nights waiting for this moment. Hacking hadn’t always been his profession, and traversing the passageways of code and web was difficult. But this was his job and although the boss hadn’t asked him to do this, he needed to. He needed revenge._

_Staring at the picture right now, the clearest one he could get from the crappy camera, fills him with rage. He doesn’t know this person’s name, or where they are, but he has this picture. For now, that’s enough. He’ll find them. He’ll destroy this person’s life with everything he can._

_The lights flick of and he winces, eyes pressing closed in pain._

_“What are you doing?” A man leans in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. There’s a worry line creased into his forehead. He glimpses the photograph on the screen._

_"Who is that?” The man asks, taking a few cautious steps forward to get a better look. Understanding flickers on his face like a flipped switch. The man takes a step back in shock, then sucks in a nervous breath. They exchange a glance, and the man is gone back the way he came. The light is flipped off again and the door is closed with a resounding slam._

_He grimaces into the darkness again._

_He’d been hoping to keep this a secret._

              

~~~~~

 

Akaashi Keiji needs a break. Only just this morning he’d done another jewel robbery, been accosted by the Johzenji gang, introduced himself to an Inspector with the very jewel he’d stolen earlier _still on him_ , and dropped off said jewel at what only now he can say is a godforsaken set-up.

He doesn’t even have enough energy to glare at Mad Dog who at this point has him at gunpoint, ruby Keiji had stolen just this morning in hand.

Nobody was even supposed to be at the drop-off. He was to simply hide the ruby underneath the lowest step on the back porch of this abandoned house and leave it at that.

In hindsight, maybe that should’ve been more suspicious. Now Keiji can only imagine why Mad Dog, of all ridiculously infamous criminals, has him petrified on the spot as if he’d looked Medusa straight in the eye. Weird-ass hair included.

The scowling man stays well away from him. This hasn’t been the first time they’ve met and Mad Dog knows that Keiji could try and disarm him if he was to get too close. It may have happened once or twice before.

“What, do I smell?” Keiji gibes, unmoving but tracking Mad Dog with his eyes. “Wait, don’t answer that.” He unceremoniously sniffs beneath his arm and wrinkles his nose. Yeah, admittedly, he smells a little sweaty.

“Shut the fuck up.” Mad Dog growls. Keiji huffs and crosses his arm.

“Well then what do you want this time, Mad Dog? Trying to kill me again? Another job for Seijoh?” At the returned silence Keiji stares down his nose. “Tips for styling your hair perhaps?”

Mad Dog bristles as Keiji disapprovingly evaluates the buzzed-blonde hair striped with black. His stylist must seriously hate him. They share a few tense seconds of silence. Because of course Mad Dog doesn’t want to indulge him and make things easier. Why on earth would he ever think that?

Mad Dog circles around until Keiji is between him and the house. It’s only until after he flicks the gun and motions him to go inside that Keiji starts to feel the twinges of concern in his gut. However, Keiji can’t help but sigh and proceed the few cautious steps up the porch. There’s really no arguing with a gun pointed at you.

The house is dusty and dark, the floorboards creak and when the wind pushes inside through the broken windowpanes it whistles. There’s nothing on the barren floors, and on the walls are the forgotten nails used to support pictures frames and décor. He’s hesitant to advance, but all Mad Dog has to do is grunt and click the safety off the gun in warning.

Keiji’s dread only increases with every step, but he finds himself retreated further into his other persona. The one where he could kick your ass and be thanked for it. The one that Mad Dog has personal experience with. The one that keeps Keiji _alive_.

This kind of adrenaline is something he lives for- the kind one feels when they might get caught. He could care less about the adrenaline one could get from rollercoasters or scary movies. That’s child’s play. This is why he became a thief.

But even though he’s caught now and the adrenaline is coursing through him, this is a high Keiji desperately wants to shake off. He _knows_ who is in this house. He knows and he’s struggling to calm down because he’ll need all his wits for who awaits him. The only person Mad Dog could possibly be forced to do something like this for.

As he enters the living room, a delighted clap resounds throughout the empty house.

“Ah! Black Owl-kun, I’m happy you could make it!”

There before him stands the leader of one of the biggest crime syndicates in Tokyo.

All Oikawa Tooru can do is smile.

 

“What do you want?” Keiji drawls, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed.

Oikawa Tooru throws his head back and laughs with tinkling merriment. Keiji’s never met this man before, but he’s heard the stories about him, about his syndicate.

He doesn’t like him.

“Oh boy, right to the point aren’t we?” Oikawa wipes a fake tear from his eye and recomposes himself. His smile is cutting when it’s directed at Keiji.

“First, I believe introductions are in order.” Oikawa sticks out his hand. “I am Oikawa Tooru, head of Seijoh Syndicate.” He’s grinning but it seems entirely ingenuine. He points to the man behind him, still holding him at gunpoint. “That’s Mad Dog-chan.” The man promptly growls in irritation.

“And you are?” He prompts.

“The Black Owl.” Like hell he’s going to give his real name to a Crime lord.

“Oh boo,” Oikawa pouts, dropping his hand. “And here I was hoping to have a deeper relationship with you Owl-kun. There’s so much I want to discuss with you!”

“What do you want?”

Oikawa leans forward, eyelashes fluttering. It’s endearing sure, but Keiji likens the man to an oleander. He’s pretty but extremely deadly.

“I want to talk business, Owl-kun.”

At the look in the man’s eye, the narrow and knowing glimmer, a pit forms in the bottom of his stomach. Oikawa Tooru knows something. He knows something important.

And Keiji knows he’s absolutely fucked.

 

~~~~~

 

“What do you mean, ‘no cellphone’?” Kuroo stands at Konoha’s desk, palms flat against the wood. The blonde is leaning precariously far back in his chair, fingers against his temple like some bullshit mind reader. Admittedly, he looks like he’s in a very bad mood.

“Like I said,” Konoha grits out, eyes squeezed shut. “There was no cellphone found. Evidence didn’t pick one up. There’s not even one photographed. I can’t check his messages if I don’t have the phone.”

The officer drops his chair back to the ground and glowers at the pile on his desk. Kuroo warily eyes the hazardously stacked files and then looks back at Konoha who is practically fuming from his ears the longer stares at them. Kuroo has an inkling that the two are connected. He nods slowly, frustration with Konoha dissipating in favor of keeping the officer from blowing up and setting fire to the office.

“Well then, I’ll see if Washio can locate it through GPS. If he can’t find it we can just request to get the call records from the past couple of months.” 

Konoha merely hums in response, the annoyance sloughs off of him only to be replaced with this weary sort of resignation. Kuroo straightens and checks his watch, then looks back down at the officer with concern.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Kuroo hesitates when Konoha flicks remorsefully at the corner of a report. “Do you need someone to help you with all of that?”

“The only way anybody can help me now is catching the goddamn bastards who keep robbing the shit out of these places.” Konoha glares weakly at a file he pulls from the top of the stack. “There was another robbery just yesterday. A ruby in the precious stone collection from a museum downtown. Worth more than our lives combined.” There’s a stamp on the top file, in big red letters. Kuroo raises a brow and crooks his head to read it better.

‘GARUDA ROBBERY #61’

“ _You’ve_ been put on the Garuda case?” Konoha, of all the officers and Inspectors in the station, was now stuck on the case that had given the Tokyo police headaches for ages.

Garuda appeared about two years ago and was now one of the most wanted criminal organizations in all of Japan. They’d been the culprits of robberies targeting anywhere from museums and temples to jewelry stores and prominent households. And now one of Kuroo’s very own officers were put on the case. How proud he was.

Konoha pulls his lip back in distaste.

“I may have mouthed off in front of the Superintendent and been sentenced to life in hell.” His face grows even more twisted when Kuroo barks out a loud laugh, drawing a few stares from their team.

“It seems there’s been a lot of that going around lately.” 

“Yeah. A word of advice, check to make sure he’s not in the room before insulting his go-to Inspectors on their lazy ass police work.” Konoha slides a few of the files off the stack and puts them directly in front of him.

“Well, if you really _do_ manage to crack the case, you’re going to be in for one hell of a promotion.” Kuroo chuckles, feeling sorry for Konoha but at the same time smug. Bastard needed someone to knock his ego down a notch.

The officer meekly agrees and Kuroo takes the few steps away towards his office. He leaves the door open, rounding his desk to sit down. He makes a quick call to Washio in the tech lab, asking him to track down the missing phone, then hangs up with a sigh.

The Inuoka case file is open on his desk. Pictures, financial records, crime scene reports splayed out for his viewing pleasure. In the main office area for his team they have a whiteboard set up everyone can reference to, but so far it holds very little information just like the file before him.

It just makes no sense. Kuroo leans forward, hands clasped before his mouth. There just simply wasn’t any real motive. The crime itself was obviously premeditated, that can be proven with the binding of the victim. But it didn’t seem as though the killer personally knew Inuoka. It almost appeared as a professional job- what with the killing of the whole Inuoka family as well.

Not simply just that, however. When Kuroo and Bokuto had spoken with the building manager about the security cameras, she’d informed them that they had been working perfectly. They sent the tapes from the past week over to Washio, only to find out that the security feed had been on a loop. Starting on the night of the murder and ending only at when the first officers arrived on scene.

_But why?_ Why not just cut the feed altogether? It would’ve been exponentially easier.  

Kuroo flips through the photographs of the crime scene again. The questions remained then- What did the killer want? And upon killing Inuoka Sou, did they get it?

A knock.

Bokuto leans against the doorframe, puckering his lips and gazing about the office. Kuroo ignores him for a moment longer, positive that his partner would pipe up any second regardless. He checks back down at the photographs in the meantime- at the knots tied around Inuoka’s wrists, the kicked in door. He then thinks about the missing cellphone. The killer must’ve taken it, but on the same hand... There was someone else who also had the chance to take the cellphone before the police arrived.

“…Yes?” Kuroo prompts as his partner just continues to quietly stand in the doorway.

“You’re onto something, aren’t you?” Bo observes his wrinkled brow, the hand currently tangling in his hair. Kuroo sighs and leans away from his desk.

“There wasn’t a phone found at the scene.”

“Yeah, I heard from the guys down in processing.”

“Who else besides the killer had access to the apartment before the murder was called in?”

Bokuto’s mouth pulls down in confusion.

“Technically anyone since the lock on the door was broken. But there wasn’t any other signs of theft so,” Bokuto’s eyes widen. He stands straighter, shoulders squared and a single bushy brow raised in question. “You think the boyfriend did it?”

“Shibayama Yuuki-san, and I’m not sure.” Kuroo pulls subconsciously at his hair again. If Shibayama-san did take the phone, why? The phone must’ve been stolen for a reason- if not for information the killer wanted, then maybe for sentimental reasons that the boyfriend cherished. But withholding evidence wouldn’t help Shibayama-san if he wanted the police to catch his boyfriend’s killer.

Kuroo recalls the dark look in the young man’s eyes and he thinks. What if Shibayama-san didn’t want them to catch the killer? And what if the cellphone was the lead they needed?

Bokuto huffs and leans over the desk, bored with Kuroo’s despondency. He begins swiping up the papers back into the file.

“Well, I came back here to tell you that Shirofuku-chan called,” He smiles cheekily as Kuroo protests when he takes the file into his hands and pulls away. “She said she’s finished with her examination and that we should bring her lunch if we want a report.”

“We can take this with us.” His partner gestures with the file and leads the way out of the office. He marches with his knees pushed high and arms swinging. Kuroo only wastes an indignant second before trailing behind, rolling his eyes with an amused smile.

As they walk together, Kuroo takes a moment to observe his partner- who is now chatting animatedly about a new possible recruit the canine unit is looking to adopt. Bokuto looks better, the night shift ended yesterday for him so now both of the partners are able to work together during regular hours. The dark bags have lessened after a good night’s sleep, and Kuroo had made him breakfast this morning so that was always bound to have Bokuto in a good mood for the rest of the day.

“The dog’s name is Takako. She’s really something special, I think I might’ve even trained with her once before,” Bokuto is speaking with his hands and smiling brightly like he does anytime the dog squad is involved. Kuroo hums in acknowledgement, watching warmly his partner describe the Belgian Malinois.

Bokuto speaks a little too loudly, but it’s nothing compared to his old booming voice he always spoke in when they first met at the police academy. He’s tempered down in the years Kuroo’s known him- less prone to his chronic mood swings, and more perceptive to everyone around him. 

Maybe it was Bokuto’s volunteering with the canine training program that started the change. The rigorous training the dogs undertake comes with a heavy handbook for their handlers. Kuroo remembers the nights his partner would stay awake pouring over the manuals and protocols, all to pass his test to be able to assist in the program.

In the entirety of Japan, there are only 70 dogs in the national service. In Tokyo, about half reside permanently with their owners and partners. Bokuto had been involved with nearly every single one of the dog’s training. The thought makes Kuroo swell with pride.

They stop by the station cafeteria and grab a quick lunch, opening the file for a few depressing seconds while they eat. They pour over all the gathered information, Bokuto somehow unconvinced that Shibayama was the one to steal the cellphone. Kuroo unconvinced as well, but still suspicious of the young man’s reluctance to talk to them.

“Maybe we should go back for more questioning?” Bokuto asks between mouthfuls, looking up at Kuroo who sighs and pushes his over-dressed salad away.

They pack up their things again, Bokuto runs through the cafeteria line once more to grab a couple of sandwiches for Shirofuku. It’s a quick walk and elevator ride away to the morgue.

 

When they arrive, the medical examiner has one glove on wrist-deep in some dead woman’s abdomen and another glove off eating out of a bag of chips as she dictates her diagnosis. Her assistant, Suzumeda, stands aside writing down the findings, completely unfazed.

“Jesus fuck.” Kuroo breathes upon walking in on the scene. Both women look up and Shirofuku is scowling at them, now holding a kidney, until Bokuto pipes up.

“Shirofuku-chan, I brought you lunch!” He flourishes and holds out the plastic containers. “Two sandwiches this time!”

The medical examiner blinks a few times then grins, pleased. Bokuto and Shirofuku both have always held a deep appreciation for food, but they differ in love for Kuroo. The medical examiner tolerates him, but for some reason his charming personality just doesn’t work on her. Might have to do with the time he accidentally asked how far along she was in her pregnancy when in reality, she had only just finished a really big lunch. Kuroo’s pretty sure she’ll never forgive him for that.

However, for the sake of their jobs, they can remain civil. Bokuto being mediator helps as well. She places the now extracted kidney in a silver dish and takes off her remaining glove.

“Took you long enough Koutaro- I sent you that text nearly a half-hour ago!” She giggles and swipes the container away from Bokuto. It’s like Kuroo blinks and the sandwiches have disappeared, which they really have, deep into the cavern that was Shirofuku’s infamous stomach. Just the thought of eating that fast makes Kuroo a little nauseous. Well, that and the dead person smell. They probably should’ve eaten lunch _after_ this visit.

“So do you have any news for us about our good old buddy Inuoka-san?” Bokuto is leaning over the silver examination table the dead woman is on, eyeing the hole where her organs have been removed from her body.

Suzumeda quietly inclines toward them and with the clipboard pushes Bokuto’s face away from the dead woman.

“Not if you contaminate our other cadavers.” She chides, but she’s grinning. The assistant takes the bowl of kidney and waltzes away. Bokuto stares after her sadly.

Shirofuku, still with a full mouth, snaps on a new pair of gloves and walks to the other side of the room where the cold storage is. Kuroo and Bokuto both trail after her. Pulling on a silver handle, the naked (save a white sheet for modesty) Inuoka is rolled out of the drawer.

In the two days they’ve been waiting for the medical report, Inuoka had changed very little except for his color. He was now as nearly white as the sheet that covered him and Kuroo’s eyes were immediately drawn to the purple rings around the man’s wrists. 

“So,” Shirofuku, swallowing what food had been stored in her cheeks, pulls out the clipboard that had been attached to the front of the drawer. “I know how the killer managed to tie your guy up without any struggle.”

She gestures to the side of Inuoka’s neck. Kuroo crouches down to be eye level, and if Shirofuku hadn’t pointed it out exactly, Kuroo wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Broken skin, a light ring of purple. An injection spot.

“It was a mild sedative. It would’ve lasted only a few minutes, but that’s all it takes, yeah?” She flips a page back on the clipboard. “The original examiner was right when she said the first shot wasn’t meant to kill. It misses all of the major arteries in the area. Your guy was bleeding out for quite a while before the second shot actually came. I’d say at least ten minutes by the amount of blood loss.”

“Well shit.” Kuroo huffs, arms akimbo. Bokuto nods knowingly, staring intently at the bullet wounds.

“The killer _was_ questioning him then.” Bokuto mumbles into his fist.

“Yup,” Shirofuku pops the ‘p’. She holds the clipboard against her chest now. “I sent the bullets to ballistics a little over an hour ago. There’s not much else here. Slight contusion on the skull, caused with the butt of the gun probably. He’s got bruising for struggling against his restraints.”

“I’ll have the chemical composition of the sedative sent to you as soon as I get it back from the lab.” She rolls the drawer shut and looks to them expectantly.

Kuroo nods to her. “Thank you for calling us down here.”

“No problem. Now you guys go catch the murderer.” Shirofuku strides away with a teasing smile. Bokuto laughs.

“Easier said than done!”

 

~~~~~

 

It is dark by the time Kenma returns from the store. On each arm he has several shopping bags and his muscles are protesting heavily as he unlocks the apartment door. He nearly drops everything when someone charges him and wraps him up in a frim embrace.

“Where have you been?” Keiji hisses, clinging onto Kenma as though he’s been gone for years and only just returning. The grip is suffocating and it does nothing to calm the jitteriness he’d felt on the way walking back home. Kenma manages a feeble squeak until the green-eyed man releases him, hands still holding onto his shoulders. There’s a fleeting panic in Keiji’s eyes, with no lack of frustration at the blonde’s tardiness.

“You were supposed to be here when I got back.” A tremor in his voice draws Kenma’s attention- he soaks in the pinched expression, the sunken eyes. Its obvious Keiji hasn’t slept since yesterday before the job. Apparently they’ve both had a rough day.

Kenma purses his lips and ducks under the arms holding him against the front door. The bags are getting heavy and he wants dinner. He doesn’t want to talk. There’s a sigh from behind him that he pointedly ignores.

“Kenma.” The plastic bags rustle as he unloads them. The shaking of his hands is disregarded. He places the soda in the fridge, the protein bars in the cupboard. Keiji watches him. Silently, assessing, those green eyes pierce him like an arrow.

“You did a job without telling me.”

He freezes, eggs hovering just above the shelf in the fridge. Keiji’s tone wasn’t accusing, just blunt like always. Kenma takes a shallow breath and dips his head so his hair blocks his line of sight. He can’t see Keiji out of his peripherals any more.

“I do those from time to time, if they’re just for hacking.” He doesn’t see Keiji raise his head, hold his breath. He doesn’t see the concern in his eye. Kenma hurries and busies himself with starting dinner now that the groceries are put away.

“We promised one another we’d discuss every job together.” This time there is a bite in Keiji’s tone. He flinches.

A pause.

“Seijoh is asking me to steal back some lost assets of theirs.” It’s almost a whisper. Kenma tries not to cringe. Two weeks ago. A hacking job that required him to find a shipment report. _Assets that were lost because of me…_ A pitfall opens in the bottom of his stomach. _Seijoh…_ He knows where this conversation is leading to. Kenma puts the rice to cook, rinses off the vegetables before he starts cutting them.

Keiji moves to perch himself on the counter next to the cutting board. Kenma aligns the onions and carrots according to size. He still refuses to meets Keiji’s eyes, still refuses to speak. He can sense the concern wafting his way. Probably because the knife in his hand is trembling as he’s chopping the vegetables.

“Kenma.” The blonde shakes his head.

Again.

“Kenma.” Keiji gently slips the knife from his hand and sets it back onto the counter. He places soft fingers to the underside of Kenma’s chin which had been firmly pressed down. Kenma lets Keiji tilt his head up and brush their lips together. His eyes flutter closed momentarily, sighing into the fleeting comfort of Keiji’s affection. Their foreheads meet.

“We need to talk about this.” Keiji breathes, his arms circling Kenma’s waist to hold him steady. It’s nearly impossible for Kenma to not relax into the touch. He nestles his face into the junction of Keiji’s neck and shoulder. He’s scared.

“So they’re hiring Garuda to steal the cargo they lost because I hacked them? Isn’t that a good thing- better for business if we keep pitting the two against one another?” A lackluster attempt at humor. Something to maybe chuckle about and then they could end this conversation, have dinner, and sleep curled up with one another.

But Keiji doesn’t laugh. The sunken feeling in Kenma’s stomach grows worse. Keiji has a certain way of delivering bad news that’s akin to straight up ripping off a band-aid. Kenma prepares himself for that punch to the gut.

A gentle hand cards through his hair. It’s not tied up now, so Keiji’s fingers slip easily through the thin strands. They both share a breath.

“Seijoh isn’t hiring Garuda. They’re hiring me.” Keiji’s hands touch him delicately, but there’s an underlying ferocity to his firm hold. Kenma reciprocates.

“They know the Lucky Cat hacked them and that you’re a member of Garuda.” Kenma pushes his nose closer to Keiji’s neck. He feels the comfort wash over him but it doesn’t soak in. “They somehow think I can successfully steal all thirty pieces back by myself. Of course I’ll need your help.”

Kenma nods and steps back. Keiji still looks unsure about something. Unnecessarily tense. Their gazes meet for a split second, charged, before Keiji blinks and hops off the counter. He turns to the vegetables and quietly starts cutting them. Kenma heads to the cupboard and pulls down a glass. He fills it with water at the tap and takes a small sip to calm his churning stomach.

Keiji sighs, his shoulders dragging down.

“If we don’t do this,” _chop chop chop_ , “I think Seijoh is going to order a hit on us.”

Kenma places his cup on the counter. Do it or die. Simple enough.

“I’ll start planning tonight then.”

 

~~~~~

  

Yuuki clicks on the profile name and narrows his eyes.

“Sendai, of course he’s in Sendai.” He mumbles. Yuuki raises his head and looks about the dusty apartment. He’s hardly touched anything outside his room, hasn’t traveled to the end of the hall where Sou’s is. He doesn’t need to. The photo album rests forgotten on the bottom shelf. He’d flipped through it, mindless except for one phrase. _Childhood friends._

In his hand he hold a picture, one from when Sou was in primary school. He stands with his arms around two boys, beaming at the camera. Behind them are others smiling and posing. On the back in scribbled hand is the date and everyone’s names.

It is the only one in the album that has given him what he needed. The bottom left hand corner of the photograph pictures another child, one with a gentle smile on his face. He’s standing adjacent to the group, but still close enough to be included. On the back, his name is illustrated.

_Kozume Kenma_.

Yuuki narrows his eyes at the laptop screen again. The address to the restaurant in Sendai stares blankly back at him. The police asked he not leave Tokyo in case they needed to ask him more questions, however…

This person might have the answers he needs.

Yuuki saves the address to his cellphone and carefully folds the picture into his wallet. It takes ten minutes for him to pack, another fifteen for him to make it to the train station.

Dropping in unannounced is rude, but Yuuki has no choice. He needs answers. He needs to find Kozume Kenma. He needs to know what happened.

And Yaku Morisuke is just the person to go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update.  
> And sorry this is kind of blah.   
> I promise I'll do better next chapter. I just needed to get things established here T^T

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on my [tumblr](https://asteriskscepter.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
